"It's very lovely—all this," she said.
"It suits me," Paul replied. A little later he cleared his throat and said, "Helen—I—I'm sorry."
"I'm all right," she said quickly. It was almost as if she had slammed a door in his face, and she did not want to be rude to him. "I mean—it's good of you to care. I'd rather not talk about it."
"I—sometimes I think I could—I could commit murder!" he said thickly. "When I get to thinking—"
"Don't," she said. It was some time before he spoke again.
"Well, if there is ever any chance for me to do anything—I guess you know I'd be glad to."
She thanked him. When he left her at the door of the hotel she thanked him again, and he asked her not to forget. If he could help her with her sales or the bank people or anything—She said she would surely let him know.
It was necessary to sleep, because she had another sale, a hard sale, to make next day. But she was unable to do it. Long after midnight she was lying awake, beating the pillows with clenched hands and biting her lips to keep from sobbing aloud. It seemed to her that all of life was torture and that she could no longer bear it.
CHAPTER XVI
Returning to Coalinga after the meeting with Paul, Helen ached with weariness. But she was alive again. The haze in which she had been existing was gone. She had risen early that morning, met her prospective land-buyer at the train, and made the sale. It had been doubly difficult, because the salesman for Alfalfa Tracts had met the train, too, and had almost taken the prospect from her, thinking it would be easy to do because she was only a woman. There was a hard triumph in her victory. The sale had reduced Bert's debt by another four hundred dollars, for she could afford now to turn in the entire commission against it.